Bolt of Water
by RoseRedGurl
Summary: They always had a soft spot for each other. He was the only one that understood. An unspoken love ends tragically at a circus. Bolt/OC  During Origins.
1. Chapter 1: Bolt of Laughter

**I do not own X-Men: Origins. I only own Sara**

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><p>William Stryker had assembled a team. A team in which he recruited eight lethal human beings. There was James Howlett, who had bone claws; Victor Creed, who had finger nails that could grow really long; John Wraith, who was a telepoter; Fred Dukes, who had super-strength; a marksman David North, who Stryker referred to as Agent Zero; Chris Bradley, who was an electricity manipulator; Wade Wilson, a swordsman martial artist and Sara Marie, a telepath and hydrokinetic.<p>

They were in a plane on there way to Lagos, Nigeria. It was a long flight. Wade had one of his precious swords out, sharpening it. Sara, who was sitting right next to him, was getting annoyed by the noise that was being made.

"Could you stop that? It's giving me a headache." She told him.

Wade smirked but continued sharpening the knife. "I love this weapon more than anything in the whole wide world, you wanna know why?" He asked.

Victor, who was clearly annoyed and uninterested, answered him, "No."

The disinterest the others had didn't seem to matter to Wade. He just loved to talk about it. He never seemed to stop talking, come to think of it. And it got on everyone's nerves, especially Sara's. She dreamed of the day that would come that he would just shut up. Though it would probably never come, she hoped.

"It's memorable," Wade spoke about his sword, "Sure it's a little bulky, tough to get on a plane. You whip out a couple of swords at your ex-girlfriend's wedding, they will never, ever forget it." He had a smile on his face.

"That's funny Wade. I've think you've mistaken me with someone who gives a shit." Victor spat out. A small smirk made its way onto Sara's youthful face.

Wade scoffed, "Granted, it's probably not as intimidating as having a gun, or bone-claws or the fingernails of a bag lady… Manicure?"

Sara giggled. This had become entertaining. It was the most entertaining thing that had happened around her that she didn't have to _force_ people to do.

"Fred got a new tattoo. I'm a little concerned."

James looked over and saw a tattoo of a woman on Fred's arm, "Jesus, Fred, you just met her last night."

"I love her."

"After one night?" Sara asked.

"She's a gymnast." That explained it.

Bradley smiled. "Bradley, take her down." Stryker commanded.

Using his electrokinesis, Bradley lowered the plan out of the sky. It made the plane shake. For mostly everyone, it was okay. It made James groan.

"You gonna puke?" Fred asked.

"If we were made to fly, we'd have wings." James explained.

"Aww, don't worry Nancy, more people die from driving than flying." Zero mocked him.

"How 'bout impaling?" James asked him.

Tension.

"Hey be nice," John told him, "Or be your approximation of nice…would you like a bucket?"

Sara's laughter sent everyone else into laughter.


	2. Chapter 2: Not far from here

The team was outside a headquarters of a diamond trafficking operation. Stryker hadn't told them why they were there, but they assumed it was for something important. The building was big and there was "security" outside of it. Men with tanks and guns. Sara's stomach began to twist. She was always uneasy when around guns. Only one other knew this. Chris Bradley. Unknown to others, but each other, they had been associated with each other for years now.

"Why are we here?" James asked.

"All in good time." Stryker told him. "Zero."

Zero was on take-out-the-guys-in-front duty. Guns were his forte. Once again, Sara's stomach churned. A fingerless gloved hand took her. Bradley. She squeezed it tight and turned her face into his chest as the guns went off. Bullets flew and bodies dropped. Zero was a grade A assassin.

"Fred?"

"The tank?"

"The tank."

"I got that."

Victor had begun climbing the building. Fred had walked up to the tank and stuck his fist in the whole. It blew up. Stryker, Fred, John, James, Chris, Sara, and Wade invaded the building and made there way into the elevator. A button was pushed and they started up. Classical music began playing.

Suddenly, the elevator stopped. The lights had gone out and the music shut off. John reached and pressed the button with the number 12 on it. But the elevator didn't move. The seven of them were stuck. And if it weren't bad enough, Wade opened his mouth again.

"Great. Stuck in an elevator with five guys, a kid and a high protein diet."

"Kid?" Sara questioned.

"Dreams really do come true."

"God just shut up, Wade!" Sara yelled.

"You're up next." Stryker told him.

"Thank you sir. You look really nice today. It's the green, it brings out the seriousness in your eyes."

Sara rolled her eyes, "You gonna take him to dinner or what?"

"Do you ever shut up?" James asked Wade.

"No, not when I'm awake."

They stood there for a moment in silence.

"Bradley, top floor please."

The elevator began to move again. They reached the top floor. Just before the doors opened, "Time to go to work," was muttered from Wade. The others moved to the sides as Wade got himself ready. He grabbed his swords and ran out. The bullets had ricocheted off his swords and killed the shooters.

"Okay, people are dead." Wade called.

The others emerged and Stryker walked up to the desk of the man. He had reached below his desk to grab a gun. John teleported next to him and stopped him. Stryker reached the front of the desk.

"Take the diamond, they are yours."

"I don't want you diamonds," Stryker picked up a meteorite off the desk, "I want this."

Everyone was confused. What use could a meteorite have?

"That? That is nothing- a souvenir." The man told Stryker.

That wasn't the case to Stryker, "Where did you find it? I want the source."

"A small village. Far inland, three days from here."


	3. Chapter 3: Glad You Came

_Six Years Later_

It had been six years since Sara had seen anyone in the Mutant Group. Six years since she had left the group. She couldn't handle what they were doing. It killed her inside every time she saw a body drop or someone killed. The humanity of them all was questioned. James had left and so did Bradley. She took their example. She got out. Far away.

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><p>Springfield, Ohio<p>

It was a late, breezy summer night. Everywhere was crowded. Chris Bradley stood slouched over a table, flipping a light switch on and off. This is what he had been reduced to. He wore a red and white pinstripe suit. A young couple ran by.

The blonde seemed interested.

"What do you do?"

Chris sat up, "You turn off the light you win a prize. Three tries for a buck."

The girl turned to her boy friend who handed her a dollar and she handed it to the him. Chris turned the bulb on. The girl flipped the switch, but nothing happened. The girl thought she understood. She grabbed the plug in cord and unplugged it. Yet the light stayed on.

Chris held up two fingers, "That's two."

A few feet away, someone was watching. The third try, the boy friend unscrewed the light bulb. Still the light stayed on. The boy friend dropped the bulb due to the heat. The boy friend was pissed off so he and his girl friend left. The girl that had been watching walked over.

She picked up the light bulb and screwed it back in. She reached into her back pocket and gave the man a dollar. He smiled at how it easy it was to sucker people out of money. She flipped the switch, but the light stayed on. She unplugged it, but the light still stayed on. She smirked and flipped the switch and the light turned off.

Chris looked up at the girl, "How did you-?"

"Bradley, you of all people should know how."

He stood up, as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Sara?"

She smiled.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd still be with Stryker."

She took a deep breath and shook her head.

"Things kind of went bad. I just couldn't handle it anymore. The killing and the guns. So I left. And I see this is what you've been reduced to. I never really did like the circus. Clowns and fakes."

Chris chuckled, "Felt like the perfect place to hide."

"It was good seeing you again."

"You too."

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><p><strong>The End (:<strong>


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